Kim glared down at her, “You like showing off your tits and cunt, don’t you?”
Kathy shook her head, “No, Miss Kim, but I wish to do whatever pleases you and Master Abul.”
“It will please me to see you whipped,” Abul said. “Ask the new mistress of the house to do it.”
Trying to keep her voice from trembling Kathy turned slightly toward Kim who had finished most of her drink, “Miss Kim,” she said, “two times today I have momentarily forgotten that you are now the mistress of this house, and that I am your servant. Please forgive me. I should be punished.”
“How punished?”
“I ask that you please whip me.”
“Go to platform,” Kim pointed with the whip handle. Kathy crawled to the raised wooden platform and waited. Kim crossed to her and, nudging her with the whip said, “Get up on it. Ass to face Abul. Crawl under bar.”
When Kathy had positioned herself on the platform, Kim quickly secured her ankles and wrists in the leather cuffs. “Stick ass up high,” Kim said. “And bend back down low.” Kathy rested her head on the platform and lifting her ass, she lowered the small of her back as far as she could. Kim then brought the horizontal bar down until the ragged metal teeth pressed against Kathy’s skin. “Must hold still,” Kim said. “If you move, sharp edges cut you, cut you good.”
Kathy realized that the slightest movement would cause the wicked teeth to break her skin. At the Facility she had never been able to hold still while being whipped. A ball of fear formed in her stomach like a cold fist. Kim had come around to the front of the platform. She extended the whip handle. Kathy raised her head and kissed it. “You ever been whipped in your house?” Kim asked.
“No, never.”
“But want to feel whip now?”
“Yes.”
From behind her she heard Abul ask, “Why, Mrs. Ryan? Why do you want to be whipped?”
“Because...because I was disrespectful to Miss Kim...and...and because I know seeing me whipped will please you.”
“That is true,” Abul said. “I have to say, you have a desirable ass. Kim, notice how round and full it is. How firm and white. Do you wish you had such a fine ass?”
Kathy knew he was goading the girl, making her angry. Kim moved behind her. “Ass not be so pretty when I get through,” Kim said, her voice rising.
She jabbed Kathy’s foot with the whip handle, “Ask bitch, say please.”
Kathy swallowed hard, “Please whip me, Miss Kim,” she said.
The blows came hard and fast, each raising a livid red welt. Kathy bit her lip and grunted, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her ass cheeks twitched and burned. Instinctively, she tried to move but the metal teeth dug into her back. She willed herself to remain still and soon the fire exploded in her head and seemed to send her beyond pain. Abul let the brushes spin over her wet clitoris. She felt a powerful orgasm beginning to build. Suddenly, Kim stopped whipping her and Abul stopped the brushes. Kathy was trembling and gasping. “Well?” Abul shouted.
“More,” Kathy rasped, “please whip me.”
“No,” Abul said. “You are not going to cum, at least not tonight.”
Kathy felt the bar lifted from her back and soon Kim had unfastened the restraints. Kathy stretched out to lay flat on the platform. They permitted her to rest for several minutes. “Crawl,” Abul ordered.
Slowly Kathy got to her knees. She was sure Kim’s whip had broken the skin on her ass cheeks, the burning had subsided to a painful ache. When she once more knelt between Abul’s spread legs she saw that his dark ugly prick had become rigid. He held it out to her, “Kiss it,” he said. “Kiss the head of it like you would kiss the lips of a lover or the lips of your husband.” Obediently, she pressed her lips to his odious cockhead. Abul glanced at Kim, “You see how Mrs. Ryan worships the prick of the man who murdered her husband?” He leaned over and put two fingers under Kathy’s chin tilting her head up. “Tell us, Mrs. Ryan, say the words and make us believe them.”
“Thank you, Master Abul,” she said, looking up into his leering face. “I...I...am honored to kneel before you. I am honored to worship your prick.” Deliberately, she circled her parted lips with her tongue. Kim stamped her foot. Quickly, Kathy turned toward her, “Thank you for whipping me, Miss Kim,” she said. “You have shown me where I belong. I gratefully accept my place as your servant. I promise to obey and respect you in all things.”
Abul leaned forward, “You are learning, Mrs. Ryan.”
Kim, who had been sitting on the arm of Abul’s chair, stood up. “I got to piss,” she said. “Let’s see how she obeys me, Abul. I want to use her mouth for my toilet?”
Kathy was about to protest, but Abul held up his hand, “Not tonight. Maybe sometime later,” he said. Angrily, Kim stormed down the hall.
Tentatively, Kathy put her hands around Abul’s stiff cock and gently began to stroke him. She wet her lips and raised her head to look into his impassive face. “Please Abul,” she said softly, glancing at the hallway, “please let me speak to you in private. There’s something important that...”
“Tomorrow,” he cut her off. “Your husband had an office here, right?”
“Yes, his den. It’s where he would work at home.”
“It’s my den, now is it not?”
“Yes, it’s yours now. Everything that was his is yours now. I am yours if you will have me.”
“When I send for you tomorrow to go there. No need to crawl. Miko will tell you what to wear.”
“Thank you, Abul.” She bent her head to kiss his prick.
“Now, I want to watch you lick Kim’s cunt. I want you to make her cum.”
Kathy couldn’t decide who she hated more, the arrogant, ignorant Vietnamese girl or Abul. It wasn’t really a question. She could joyfully kill Abul without even thinking about it. “I’ll do whatever you say,” she said.
They heard Kim returning. “Beg for it,” Abul said.
Kim, still angry, stood next to Abul’s chair looking down at Kathy, “I don’t like to see that bitch always between your legs,” she said.
Abul grinned at her, “We can put your servant between your legs. She’s got something she wants to say to you.”
Kathy backed away and turned toward Kim. “Please, Miss Kim, I..I...would like very much to...to...give you pleasure.”
“How you gonna do that?”
“I would like to lick you...to lick your pussy.”
“My cunt.”
“Yes, I’m sorry. I would like to lick your...cunt.”
Abul patted Kim’s ass. “It’s my idea. I want to see her make you cum.”
“OK,” Kim said, “but later you fuck me, yes?”
“Later. Now get down on the floor right here at my feet and spread your legs.”
Kim parted her robe and lay down and spread her legs. Kathy knelt between them and with one hand parted the shaved pussy lips. As she leaned toward the glistening pink slit, Kim grabbed her hair forcing her to look up. “I saved little bit of piss for you. Ask for it?”
“Yes, please, Miss Kim...I...I would like you to...to...give me what you have saved.” Kathy whispered. As she closed her mouth over the girl’s cunt, Kim squeezed her bladder and Kathy felt in her mouth a hot spurt of piss. With both hands Kim held Kathy’s head tightly against her pussy. “Swallow it,” she demanded. Kathy swallowed. “You like my piss?”
“Yes,” Kathy whispered.
“Now,” Kim said, “you gonna make love to my cunt?”
“Yes, Miss Kim. I want to...I want very much to make love to your cunt.”
For a long time Kathy licked, sometimes sucking on the tiny round nubbin of the Asian girl’s clitoris. Kim drew her legs up and back “Lick my asshole, Mrs. Ryan,” she demanded. She spread the cheeks of her ass. The brown puckered hole she presented to Kathy glistened. Kathy began by circling the ring with the tip of her tongue. Then, covering the hole with her lips, she licked it with the flat of her tongue. Kim groaned, “That�
�s good, you do that good.” She kept Kathy licking for several minutes before lowering her legs. “Look up,” she said. Kathy’s mouth was wet, her breath coming quickly. Kim grinned at her, “I think you like how my asshole taste, Mrs. Ryan, yes?” Kathy bowed her head refusing to answer. Angrily, Kim leaned forward and twisted Kathy’s nipple, “I ask again,” she hissed, “you like the taste of mistress’s asshole?”
Kathy winced as the girl’s fingernails dug into her breast, “Yes, Mistress Kim, I liked the taste...the taste of your asshole.”
“You gonna taste it every day from now on.” She drew Kathy’s head between her legs again. “Now, American bitch, make love to my cunt.” Once more Kathy sucked the Asian girl’s clitoris into her mouth and flicked her tongue over it. In a few moments Kim began to lift her hips and speak quickly in Vietnamese. She grabbed Kathy’s hair and ground her pussy against Kathy’s mouth. Then she came in rapid twisting and bucking movements.
“You have to admit,” Abul said, “that Mrs. Ryan learned well. She spent a lot of time at the Facility with her head between the legs and the ass cheeks of that Chinese bitch.”
Kim got to her feet. “That’s all she good for, lickin' assholes and suckin' cunt.”
Kathy was exhausted. She still felt the throbbing ache from the whipping. The taste of Kim’s secretions and piss was in her mouth. Slowly, she got to her knees before them.
“You’re finished for tonight,” Abul said.
“One more thing,” Kim glared down at Kathy. “Respect...me and Abul.”
Kathy lowered her head to their feet. Softly she touched her lips to Kim’s polished toes then to the black ragged toenails of Abul’s dirty feet. Abul nodded and gestured toward the hall. Kathy crawled away from them.
In her room she went quickly to brush her teeth then, sitting on the bed exhausted, she noticed someone had placed a photograph on her bedside table. It was of Gruber’s nephew, Fredrick. On his left stood the mindless black man, James. On his right sat the huge dog. Under the picture frame was a piece of paper with an arrow pointing toward the dog and the words, “Your next lover?” Kathy squeezed her eyes shut and began to tremble uncontrollably. Blindly she reached forward and turned the photograph to the wall. She lay back on the bed and after several minutes her body stopped shaking.
‘I can’t be given to that psychopath,’ she thought. ‘I’d rather die.’ Everything depended on persuading Abul to marry her. But he had his little slut now and there seemed to be no reason for him to agree to take Kathy as his wife. The thought of being the wife of Abul brought tears to her eyes. Gruber and Fredrick terrified her, but she hated her husband’s murderer with every fiber of her body. To marry him was unthinkable, but she couldn’t be sent to Gruber and Fredrick. Abul had agreed to see her privately tomorrow. Somehow she had to show him that it would be in his best interest to take her as his wife.
She recalled how his cock, which had been limp, started to rise when she knelt before him. During her beating, it had become rock hard. Perhaps the trashy Vietnamese girl didn’t have such a hold on him after all. Kim was his social equal. He could have all the Kims he wanted jumping through any hoops he held up. Abul, she knew, was ego driven. She remembered how often she had to describe before his friends how well educated she was and how wealthy, and what kind of life she’d enjoyed with her husband. To make Kathy kiss his feet, suck his cock, beg him to fuck her ass fed his ego more than anything else could. That’s why his cock stiffened in her presence. His power over a woman he considered superior to himself aroused him.
Tomorrow she would subtly make him aware of the vast difference between herself and Kim. She would find a way to remind him again of her education and social status. Then, no matter what it took, she would show him that he was her master, that she would gratefully submit to whatever demands he made of her.
She fell into a deep and troubled sleep.
Chapter Nine – Interview
Miko and Mi Jong awakened Kathy early the next morning. They brought the healing ointment for the welts that still marked her ass. She looked up at them, then rolled over. The strong, familiar hands of the two women massaged the salve into her ass cheeks. “Abul don’t want whip marks to show,” Miko said. Before they had finished, the lingering pain had all but gone. “Sit up now,” Miko slapped Kathy’s ass. Still naked, Kathy sat on the edge of the bed. Mi Jong handed her a bowl of fragrant soup.
“Thank you both,” she forced a slight smile at the impassive women.
“Soup make you sleep. We come back,” Miko said.
Kathy slept until late afternoon. A disturbing dream troubled her sleep. In it, Doctor Gruber sat at a piano. He played the same grating notes over and over. They sounded vaguely familiar. At first she tried not to hear them and turned away from Gruber. But after a while she felt compelled to turn back and move toward him, drawn by the sound of the discordant notes. She awoke and found herself trembling. Quickly, she put the dream out of her mind, remembering that she’d managed to have Abul promise to meet with her alone. Of course, Abul’s promises meant nothing. He might not see her. Just that sad fact seemed impossible. She was Kathy Ryan. Abul was nothing but an ugly, sadistic Pakistani or Afghani or whatever the hell he was. Twice she had thrown him out. Now, here in her own house, she had to beg for an audience with him and hope he would grant it. Quickly she showered, and rubbed her body with the perfumed oil. Sitting down at the dressing table and looking at the array of cosmetics, she wasn’t sure whether he would prefer conventional, theatrical, or whorish.
She decided on conventional. She wanted to remind him that she was a well-bred, educated, refined woman...not some vulgar slut like Kim. She had to plant in his Neanderthal mind the idea that by marrying her, his own image would appear stronger, he would gain more respect. This man was centered on two things; ego and power. She had to make him see she could satisfy both. Rather than go to Abul as his submissive whore, she would approach him as the rich and cultured Mrs. Ryan whose only desire was to become his wife. ‘The wife of Abul...the wife of the coward who murdered her dear husband’, she gripped the edge of the table and forced back the tears. She took several deep breaths, trying to drive from her mind the thought that she intended to ask Abul to marry her. After she’d gained control, she applied a light mascara to her eyelids then chose for her mouth a subdued red lipstick with a thin coating of gloss. As she finished brushing her hair, Miko entered with an armload of clothes.
“Abul say you to wear this stuff.” She placed the clothes on the bed. Kathy was surprised to see a dark green wool skirt, a rust colored silk blouse that was non-transparent, a black bra, and black bikini panties. On the floor Miko placed a pair of black leather pumps with a four-inch heel. It was the kind of outfit she would normally wear. The only inconstancy, since it was February, was the lack of stockings.
Kathy looked at Miko, “Why?” she asked, gesturing at the clothes.
“Abul say this is interview. Dress for it.”
Kathy was pleased to see that her breasts were so high and firm she didn’t really need a bra, but she put it on anyway. She’d not worn panties for such a long time, she found them uncomfortably confining. Her decision to apply conservative make-up had been the right one. She looked in the mirror and saw the same woman who, eight months ago, might be going off on a shopping spree.
She’d not been alone with Abul since the night she was summoned to his quarters at the Facility. That had turned into a disaster. She reminded herself of the plans Fredrick had for her if she failed to marry Abul. With a pounding heart and a sinking feeling in her stomach, she ascended the stairs and walked down the hall to what had been Jeff’s den. She knocked lightly on the closed door.
“Come,” Abul called. His voice never failed to send a clutch of fear through her. She hadn’t been in Jeff’s room since he died. It was just as he’d left it, except that behind his mahogany desk sat the frightful Abul. She noticed that he was wearing one of Jeff’s dark shirts and Jeff’s favorite pale y
ellow sweater. Abul saw her frown. “Except for his shoes which are too small, your late husband’s clothes fit me well, don’t you think?”
Kathy nodded, “Yes,” she said, “they fit well.”
“Sit, Mrs. Ryan,” Abul pointed to a chair facing the desk. Being in this room brought her close to Jeff and close to tears. There were his books, his computer, his and her framed degrees on the walls. In the far corner were his tennis racquet and golf clubs. On the desk, she knew, was their favorite wedding picture taken on the steps of the church just after the wedding, both of them laughing and waving. She swallowed hard and sat opposite Abul who stared at her with contempt. “You wished to see Abul alone. I’ve permitted it.”
Kathy folded her hands in her lap and bowed her head. She wanted to stand up and scream at him, ‘You arrogant, low-life, murdering thug, get out of my husband’s chair and get out of my house!’ Subduing her rage, she lifted her head and began the speech she’d been rehearsing, “As we both know, I’m to be given to Doctor Gruber and his nephew unless you are willing to take me as your wife.” Abul allowed himself a smile and nodded. Kathy looked away for a moment, then continued, “It is true that in our relationship I have occasionally, much to my regret, defied you. For that I am deeply and sincerely sorry. It is true that I have submitted to your demands only because I was drugged, or because I was whipped, or because I was trying to protect my sister-in-law. It is also true, as you have said, that my performance at the trial was an act, a pretense. I have known from the beginning that you despise me. I think you have also known that I cannot feel anything for the man who murdered my husband but hatred.” She saw Abul’s face color with anger and he seemed ready to shout and perhaps strike her.
Marriage Page 15
